


Nothing But the Truth

by orphan_account



Category: Discworld - Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Female Characters, Ficlet, POV Alternating, POV Male Character, POV Original Character, Past Tense, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-20
Updated: 2005-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 03:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sequel to 'Vocabulary'.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Nothing But the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to 'Vocabulary'.

It was a slow evening at the Swede-eating Pig (the inn had been named long before the last peace with Zlobenia, and the name, in addition to now being Traditional, was still a popular one). It was only likely to get slower. It was now a full two weeks since the victory march in the capital and pretty much all the soldiers, officers, family and gawkers that had flowed in the capital to attend had already flowed back to their usual posts, districts and homes, and things had settled down into the pronounced quiet that follows busy seasons. The swarthy old roadside inn was empty save for the few regulars who came in to drink and eat.

The bar-keep, Blue-eye Norton (so nicknamed because a war had left him with a glass eye that didn't match his other one) had a book propped up underneath the counter and was reading it secretly while wiping the mugs. He did this because his wife didn't approve of his reading. She said it would give him Ideas. (The inn's respectable reputation was largely thanks to Mrs. Norton. Before their marriage, the Inn had been a great deal swarthier, and with a much more restless - and more universally satisfied - clientele.)

The bell at the door jingled and Blue-eye looked up curiously. The people who entered were officers: one scrawny major and two young... young... Well, the dark one was a man, that was for sure. Well, almost sure. And a vampire, with a black ribbon pinned to his chest. Norton glanced down quickly to make sure the stake was well-placed within an arm's reach under the counter before turning a welcoming grin to the guests.

'On your way back to your posts, are you, er, gents?' he asked them after serving the major sarsaparilla and being told the other two were fine, thanks.

'No, on leave,' smiled the blonde captain, who Norton was beginning to believe was actually female. 'Going home for a visit. We'd like two rooms for the night.'

'Two? I'll give you three!' beamed Norton. The major's accent had the unmistakeable hint of old money, which tickled the bar-keep's healthy entrepreneurial soul. He reminded himself to dispatch the boy to sweep the rooms before the officers turned in. 'Plenty of free rooms at the moment, and it won't cost you any significant amount extra. Only the best for our esteemed officers!'

There was a moment's silence, where the major's eyes seemed to roam over everything in the room apart from the other two officers, who exchanged a look.

'Oh...' said the vampire, 'I think we'd prefer two. One for the major, and one for us.'

Norton 'oh'd in surprise. The captain, laughter twinkling behind her eyes, hurried to add, 'You may put our names down as Major Blouse, Captain Polly Perks and Lieutenant Maladicta.' She stressed the last A and her eyebrows rose just a fraction.

Norton 'oh'd again and then nodded several times in succession and dug up the old guest book (Mrs Norton had thought a guest book would add something called je-nay-says-wah to the place, which Mrs Norton insisted was good for business). He thought that times were changing a little too fast in some respects, what with vampire ladies going around dressed as Borogravian officers and, indeed, actually being Borogravian officers. Still, vampires gave a whole new definition to old money, and theirs was as good as any.

'Are you sure you wouldn't rather have your own rooms?' he asked once more, thinking of something he'd read the other week (something Mrs Norton had also expressed her objection to) involving pale necks and sharp fangs in moonlight. It was this that also prompted him to add, 'A special discount on the third room. In fact - it'll be...' He hesitated. To Blue-eye Norton's credit, he was going to add "it will be free", but eventually found he couldn't. 'It'll be almost free.'

'No, we're quite all right,' said the captain again. 'We have our reasons.'

Norton tried not to eye the vampire, whose smirk he didn't have to see in order to feel it quite sharply as a bristling of the hair at the back of his neck. 'What sort of reasons?'

The captain looked suprised, as if she hadn't expected to be asked. She glanced at the vampire again, and a slight smile played across her lips. 'Prurience?'

The vampire grinned. 'Concupiscence, even.'

'I am quite convinced it is the only amative thing to do.'

'Oh,' said Blue-eye again. 'Yes. Of course.' He noticed that the major, who had settled on staring fixedly at a point in the wall, had turned beet-red. Norton handed them their keys and watched them disappear upstairs, wishing for a moment that his collection of banned books included a dictionary.

Once out of sight, Polly and Mal broke into laughter. Blouse, who in the meantime had managed to return his colour to a more normal hue, blushed again. 'Honestly! I hope you won't try that in one of the city inns.'

'We did,' said Polly

Blouse made a surprised noise.

'But it was an abominable place,' added Mal.

'Nobody minded.'

'You girls are lucky Nuggan is dead.'

'We are lucky, period,' added Polly, and Mal wound her arms around her and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Blouse's expression (and added colour) melted into a faint smile. 'All right, you've got your room, now go into it,' he said, heading towards his own. 'See you for dinner downstairs?' The women nodded.

'We might be a little late,' added Maladicta. Polly gave her a silly, adoring grin, which was returned with an identical if slightly toothier version. Blouse caught it and shook his head. He might have muttered something about honeymooners as the door closed, but if he did, it went unheard.


End file.
